


I Really Like Your Company

by Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: ANYWAYSSS, And they don't know how to flirt, Awkward Flirting, Baz is a gay mess and Simon's a bit oblivious what's new, But Simon realises his feelings soon too tho ok lol, Coffee Shop Owner Simon, Doesn't follow the events of Carry On or Wayward Son, Like they didn't get together in CO cause they have together in this fic, M/M, THERE'S GONNA BE SO MUCH FLUFF YOU GUYS, Teacher! Baz, The author will not take responsibility for any cavities caused by this fic, They are like 26 here, This fic is self indulgence at its finest, YA ALL WILL GET NASTY TOOTACHES MWAHAHAHA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22244521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby/pseuds/Sourest_Cherry_Scone_Baby
Summary: “I told myself that it didn't matter, that this wasn't a potentially life altering information for me. That I was long over Snow. I told myself that I've had two boyfriends since I left Watford, I must be over my stupid feelings for him throughout my teen years. That I couldn't possibly be considering the idea of visiting Snow, just to fuck with my own feelings.Yet here I am, a sad gay mess, waiting for coffee and food, and cursing my stars.”----Baz Pitch is 26 and the Elocution teacher at Watford when he comes to know that Simon Snow, his former roommate, crush and rival lives alarmingly close to him.On a whim, Baz gives him a visit, just to check if he still likes Simon, but what is supposed to be a one time thing turns into a full blown romance.[SLOW UPDATES]
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 90
Kudos: 98





	1. Blue Eyes Bronze Curls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrs_ZombieOctopus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_ZombieOctopus/gifts).



> A very late birthday gift for my dear friend, Mrs_ZombieOctopus and this fic is not even complete yet! But it's going to be completed and posted here by the end of this month. Hang on fellas. It's gonna be a wild ride.
> 
> Anyways, this fic doesn't follow the events of either Carry On or Wayward Son. Things will be explained as we go further!

**BAZ**

I'm fucking starving.

Not for blood, no, but for real, actual food because apparently, I'm extremely stupid and I didn't eat anything, not even drink coffee, before I fucked out of Watford and started exploring the village nearby. 

It's noon and the sun shouldn't be shining  _ this _ bright in mid-October. Or maybe it's my vampirism kicking in and making me shrivel up like something nasty left out for too long in the sun.

I look around in search of some place which has food and where I can hopefully find some shelter against the sun when my eyes land on a tiny cafe almost tucked out of sight by the house near it.

I race across the street and rush inside the cafe with as much dignity as a starving twenty six year old vampire can manage. A small bell chimes signalling my entry and I breathe an audible sigh of relief as I finally escape the burning sun.

“Hullo.” A large old lady calls cheerily. “What can I bring for you?”

“A flat white, please. And egg salad.”

“Take a seat. I'll bring it in a minute.”

I turn away from her and take a table near the far corner where there's warmth but not much sun. A perfect place for me to flourish.

As I slump against the back of my chair, I curse myself again for ever thinking that exploring Little Caritate, the village near Watford, today was a reasonable idea. 

I started teaching at Watford as an Elocution teacher, a replacement for Possibelf when she retired last year, when the term started in September. I wasn't actually expecting to get the job since I think I'm a bit young, but Bunce senior says that in her opinion, knowledge knows no age. 

Ever since I returned to Watford, I'd been thinking of exploring Little Caritate. The key word here is _thinking_ because whenever I was free, I'd feel too lazy to go and just lie in my room and watch Netflix.

What actually propelled me to do it today was the conversation between Mitali Bunce and her daughter I overheard two days back when I was on a coffee break.

Apparently, Penelope Bunce and her Normal boyfriend weren't visiting Watford to just meet her mother. She was also there to meet her best friend, _Simon bloody Snow,_ who _lives_ here.

I told myself that it didn't matter, that this wasn't a potentially life altering information for me. That I was long over Snow. I told myself that I've had two boyfriends since I left Watford, I must be over my stupid feelings for him throughout my teen years. That I couldn't possibly be considering the idea of visiting Snow, just to fuck with my own feelings.

Yet here I am, a sad gay mess, waiting for coffee and food, and cursing my stars.

“Here you go, dearie.”

I startle out of my thoughts to see the old woman putting my order in front of me and frowning at me.

“Are you alright, love?” She asks, taking a seat in front of me and then giving a loud grunt as she rubs her knees. “My knees.” She says, nodding at me. “They hurt like a bitch.”

I choke on my coffee and almost burn my tongue but she takes no notice and continues to chatter happily.

“I'm Beth Huggins.” She says and I nod politely. 

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Huggins. I'm Basil Pitch.” 

“Funny name, no?” She says, tilting her head and grinning at me. “And please call me Beth, dear.”

“If you say so.”

“What happened to you, Basil? Why the long face?”

“Oh it's nothing. Don't worry about me.” I say hurriedly.

Beth shakes her head sadly.

“That's what Arnie would always say.” She continues when she sees my confused expression. “My brother Arnold, God bless his soul, would always say this. 'Don' you worry, Betty. I'm fit as a fiddle.' Poor dear. He died of a heart attack when he was only fifty.”

This conversation is a bit too grim for me as I practically inhale my food (I don't like talking about dead people so casually.) (Just another reason why I shouldn't have ever been a vampire.) but Beth seems to be enjoying herself so who am I to stop her?

Beth is a good talker, I realise after a few minutes when she launches into a story about Arnie's chickens, and then I just let myself get sucked into whatever she's babbling.. She's clearly bored after a slow day at work and I'm clearly done with my stupid feelings for Snow and the world in general.

After what seems like several hours but is only forty-five minutes, I know that Beth Huggins had a husband named William who died five years ago when he fell off his bed. She also has a son, Charlie, and a granddaughter who live in Ipswich and a daughter (Clara I think) who is a travel blogger and she is currently in Japan with her wife, Alice. I also know that Beth's left knee aches like a bitch (her words not mine) and gives her a lot of trouble and she lives with her two cats and is currently knitting a purple jumper for her neighbour's newborn. 

“Oh uh Beth?” I ask after she has finished telling me about that one time Alice bought a kimono for her. 

“Yes?”

“Do you know about any mysterious place near here? Some place which causes you harm or something?”

I'm just curious. I know Normals burn their eyes if they look at Watford but I still want to know what they think about it. Just to confirm what I've heard is true. If Beth suspects anything, I can easily spell her because there are no witnesses here.

“Oh there is one.” She says solemnly, her eyes and tone grave, her carefree attitude gone. “We call it the Devil's Eyes. Nasty place, that one is. I've seen a lot of foolish young men go in pursuit of exploring that place. They got blinded, I tell you! In my whole sixty four years of life, I know of eleven people who got driven mad or were blinded. Eleven! Why, old Jimmy, my cousin Susan's son, went to see that place. Couldn't see a thing afterwards for the rest of his cursed life. Poor lad, he had so much talent. All gone to waste because of a stupid mistake.”

She narrows her eyes at me.

“Listen, you're a fine young man with your whole life in your hands. Don't go in search of that wretched place and ruin your life.”

“Ah no, not at all. I wouldn't dream of it.”

Beth nods, looking satisfied, blissfully unaware of the fact that I teach there.

I take a glance at my watch and see that it's almost one pm. I should probably do what I had intended to when I had come to Little Caritate today

“Say, Beth.” I say, leaning over the table a little and smiling at her. “Do you know of someone named Simon Snow around here?”

“Simon Snow, you say?” Beth asks and scrunches up her brows in concentration. “Hmm Simon Snow. Simon Snow.” I can positively recount the exact moment when she remembers. “Oh! _Oh oh oh!_ Simon Snow! That darling boy!”

She beams at me, oblivious to the thundering in my chest and the joyous bells ringing in my mind.

“Oh, Basil, dear. Simon's _such_ a lovely young man! He's got such a quaint little pretty coffee shop and why, Clara's old friend Betty works there too! I suppose you do know him already, don't you?”

“Well yes. I suppose, I do. We were roomates when we were at school.”

“Oh, that is so lovely! He'd be so pleased to meet you!”

“I'm not so sure.” I mutter under my breath before I say a bit louder, “Could you tell me where his shop is?”

“Ah yes, of course, dear!” She waddles upto the entrance of her shop and steps out gingerly before she points towards the left of the street. “Just walk for five minutes and take a right turn and then walk for two minutes more and you'll see a coffee shop called Buttered Scones. That's where Simon Snow is.”

“Thank you very much.” I give her a grateful smile and she pats me on my shoulder. 

“Don't thank me, sweetheart. You're so nice. Not like these rowdy people I usually have to deal with.”

“Err... thanks.”

“Go on then. Goodbye, Basil! Visit again!”

I wave her a goodbye and she cheerfully waves back before I start on my route to the coffee shop in a slow and leisurely pace. 

So within a few minutes, I'd meet the boy I had been infatuated with for a long time. I haven't seen Simon Snow for some eight years. I haven't seen his beautiful bronze curls or his lovely blue eyes or his constellations of freckles and moles on his skin for eight years.

Crowley, I don't fucking think I'm over him.

Simon Snow and his atrocious table manners, inherent goodness and excellent swordsmanship haunt me and my dreams.

I try my best to walk slowly, to delay my arrival by hours if I could but it feels like only a few seconds have passed when I'm standing in front of Buttered Scones. (It's a horribly generic name and I hate it.) (Snow also still likes scones. Noted.)

Maybe I should just go back. No one would know I was here and Snow can continue to live peacefully and I can continue to teach or whatever.

No.

Goddamnit, I can't be a coward. I've come this far, I have to do this. I'll face him, get it done with. Go back to my life. Just feel the satisfaction of seeing Simon Snow after years and then go back to ignoring his existence and my feelings.

My breath comes out shaky and my hands are trembling in my pocket. Taking in a deep gulp of air to steady myself and my heart which feels like it's going to beat out of my chest, I enter the coffee shop to face my impending doom.

A bell chimes softly and I'm suddenly hyper aware of everything around me. Including the two pairs of blue eyes that are watching me curiously.

I know one of them. I can't forget that plain blue, the bronze curls hanging loosely around his face, those moles and freckles.

“Baz?”

Controlling the ridiculous beating of my heart I say, “Hello, Snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh lol Baz. I'm sorry you ain't over Snow. He's not over you either.


	2. Strong Graceful Fucking Ruthless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Baz?” I ask idiotically. Of course it's Baz. He has changed over the years, become more infuriatingly fit, but he's not unrecognisable.
> 
> “Hello, Snow.” He says calmly, completely unnerved.
> 
> Was he expecting to find me here?
> 
> Was he searching for me?
> 
> Is this a plot?
> 
> I'm feeling extremely self conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *comes out of the shadows after months*  
> hi heres a chapter i'll just go die in a hole again.

**SIMON**

This is a fucking déjà vu.

It's like eighth year all over again. Baz throwing the wooden doors of the dining hall open with a flourish, waltzing in like he owned it. Dropping on all of us after months of absence. I'd shot up out of my chair then, sending it flying backwards.

I've done the same thing today. I'm dimly aware of the fact that I'm goggling at him like some half wit numpty but what else am I supposed to do? I haven't seen him since we left Watford and even though Penny has told me that he teaches there now, I sure as hell wasn't expecting him to show up at my shop like this.

Baz's hair is considerably longer than the last time I'd seen it and he's tied it up in a neat bun, not a hair out of place. His shoulders are broader, he's more muscular, and he has a bloody stubble that looks perfect on his severe jawline.

“Baz?” I ask idiotically. Of course it's Baz. He has changed over the years, become more infuriatingly fit, but he's not unrecognisable.

“Hello, Snow.” He says calmly, completely unnerved.

Was he expecting to find me here?

Was he searching for me?

Is this a plot?

I'm feeling extremely self conscious.

**BAZ**

“Er hi.” He starts, pushing himself up to stand straight and giving me a nervous look. “What are you doing here?”

“Well that is certainly an incredible question, Snow.” I sneer at him, though I'm asking myself the very same question right now. “This is a coffee shop, isn't it? Of course I'm here for something to drink. I thought you'd have got at least some sense by now.”

Snow blushes harder and his lips curl up in displeasure while I mentally kick myself. Why do I even open my mouth if I can't say something pleasent? I'm meeting him after eight fucking years and I still can't stop being a dick to him for no reason whatsoever.

“Right, yeah. Right, of course. Yeah, just tell me what you want and err take a seat, I guess.”

“Thank you, Snow.” I say primly and move towards a seat near the counter because I'm still stupidly weak for him even after all these years and I can't bear the idea of not being close to him after being apart for so long.

“I'd like an Earl Grey. Without any milk or sugar.”

“Yeah sure. It's coming in a minute.” He's obviously still flustered as he hurries inside the pantry. I give the woman who'd been watching us a long, cool look (her eyes are just as blue as Snow's) and she turns slightly pink before she hurriedly looks away.

I remember Beth telling me about some Betty working here so I think it's her. She looks only slightly older than Snow and I watch her discreetly as she reads a book. I don't know what kind of ground rules Snow has for his employees here but bringing a book to work certainly doesn't sound very good. I mean the shop is practically empty except for me and another person working on their laptop in the far corner but it still looks unprofessional on Betty's part.

“Uh here.”

I startle slightly and see Snow setting my tea in front of me, still looking at me like I'm a ghost.

“Thank you.” I say courteously.

He doesn't leave, but shifts from one foot to another, giving me a nervous glance and then he says, “Pen told me you teach at Watford but I- er- I wasn't expecting you here.”

“I wasn't expecting to meet you here either, Snow. I had no idea you worked here.” I'm the smoothest liar alive and I should get an award for this remarkable talent.

Snow blinks at me. “Yeah well. It is my shop.”

“Oh? Well take a seat.” Oh god, _what the fuck_ am I doing?

“What?”

“You heard me, Snow. Take a seat. Let's have a nice little chat. We are meeting after years, aren't we?”

Oh Aleister Crowley, help me. _Why_ am I doing this?

Snow, in the meanwhile, hesitates before taking a seat in front of me, restless and fidgety. I'm bloody uncomfortable too. Why is my heart no longer in my control? What do you even say to your ex-nemesis when you meet them years later? I mean sure, we had left on amicable terms but we certainly were not friends. Just two people who had agreed that they could tolerate the other under dire circumstances.

“So how are you, Baz?” Simon finally mutters, breaking the silence. Well I suppose we can work from there.

“Fine. How are you?” My words come out so flat and sharp, it makes _me_ wince.

Snow, completely unfazed, shrugs. I hate to say this, but I had missed his infernal shrugs too. “Good.” He says awkwardly. “Life's not very busy, now that I'm no longer a Chosen One. It's calm, quiet. I like it loads.”

“Good for you.”

Then the uncomfortable silence is there again. A moment later, Snow is playing with his fingers while I take a sip of my tea, basking in the warmth of Simon Snow. Now that we are close, I can finally soak in his essence. Snow looks wonderful in his black shirt and jeans, if I say so myself. He still has that undercut and his skin is still just as golden. He's older, of course, more broad in the shoulders and he's put on weight but Crowley, he's just as delectable as he always was, if not more.

“Your shop,” I say, clearing my throat and unwillingly tearing my eyes away from his neck, “it's nice. Quiet and cosy.”

And just like that, Snow's entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “It is, isn't it?” He's giving me a smile he has never given me before and I'm trying my best to not melt on the spot. “It's not very big, and it's not very posh or something but it's mine. I love it here. My Gran helped me set it up.”

I sit up straighter. “Your Gran? Your grandmother? You found your family?”

Snow shrugs again and I simultaneously want to kiss him and slap him.

“When- I mean how did you find them? Are they-” I drop my voice, “Mages?”

“Well err.” He scratches his neck. “You know when the Mage was being tried by the council, he told me, privately, about my family. He said he didn't want it to be a subject of gossip. He didn't tell me about my father, said he didn't know, but he said my mother was a woman named Lucy Salisbury. I couldn't meet her because she is dead but I got to meet her family. My mum was a Mage and Penny's mum's best friend.”

He takes a breath before he continues while I stare at him in stunned silence. He's smiling a little now. “I searched for them, Aggie– Agatha– helped me. My grandmother, Ruth, and her son, Edward, they were pleased to meet me. Ruth, especially. She gave me this house when I graduated from Uni. I told her it was a bit too much but she wouldn't hear of it. Said this house was only accumulating dust and scorn over the years. Ed helped me convert it into a shop and a habitable place. I live right above.”

I'm trying to process it all. Simon has a family. A grandmother and an uncle who love him. He knows about his mother. He knows about his lineage. And he's happy about that. And I'm so happy for him.

Although I feel nothing but anger towards the Mage for never telling Simon about his family even though he knew, I'm happy that Simon got to know in the end. Especially if it makes him happy.

“That's wonderful.” I say, trying not to sound as pleased as I am right now. “I'm glad you met your family and got to know about your mother and her family.”

“Yeah. They are great.” He shifts a little, grins at me. “How's your job at Watford?”

“It's nice. The students are tolerable, I even enjoy being with a few of them. Some students, though.” I shake my head and give a disdainful sniff. “The less I say, the better it is for them. And some just bullshit through their homework. I never did that.”

“Yeah.” Simon rolls his eyes at me. “You were the perfect student. Top of the class and good in football too. Exceptionally nasty towards me and stupidly fit.”

 _Fit?_ Snow thought I was fit? Crowley, save me. I think I'm blushing.

Snow is laughing though, so I crack a smile too. Maybe it's some no homo thing, calling and finding your arch enemy fit. “I mean you are still kind of fit, aren't you?” He continues, looking over at me critically. I'm going to combust.

“Snow, are you checking me out?” Fuck fuck fuck. What am I saying?

Simon's entire face reddens. “No! I er- I was just saying! I mean you are but like-”

“It's okay, I don't blame you.” I say smugly, though my heart is still beating a bit too fast. I'm embarrassed by my words.

“Prat.”

“Tsk tsk.” I take a sip of my tea. “That's not what you call your old mate.”

“We weren't mates.” He's smiling at me again. “We only ever tried to take each other's life.”

This time, I shrug, though I can feel a smile creeping up on my face. 

"Same difference."

**SIMON**

I rather like the Baz sitting in front of me, right now.

I mean sure, he's still every bit of an asshole as always was, but he has somehow turned... soft.

I suppose that's not quite the right word but I think that describes him well right now. He is still insulting me every once in a while as we talk, but the insults are not meant to hurt me. They are more playful, like the way you might poke fun at a friend.

It's funny, but the fact that we are meeting after eight years hardly seems to matter right now. I feel like no time has passed at all and yet, it feels like it has been ages since I last saw him.

And I feel strangely glad to see him. 

"Snow?"

I snap out of my chain of thoughts to see that he is getting up from his chair.

"Well, it was lovely meeting you again-"

"You don't really mean that." I say, rolling my eyes at him and grinning.

"Yeah, I don't" He says after a pause, smiling. Its fucking weird to see him smile. That too at me. Even though he looks lovely when he does so.

"So,-"

"You don't have to pay today." I say."I mean- yeah."

"Umm." He looks unsure before he nods, looking awkward.

I look away, trying to think of something to break the silence that's now hanging between us.

"Uh Baz?" I say finally. I have got a very bad idea.

"Yes?"

"You wanna meet up again sometime? I mean uh today- err- it was fun. I mean- it was nice talking to you-"

"Snow are you listening to yourself? What happened to the Simon Snow I knew at Watford?" Baz is laughing, and I am thinking of digging up a hole and crawling inside it. Why did I think that he too enjoyed himself today? He was definitely just tolerating me. Crowley. I'm an embarrassment to myself. 

"Well I guess we can meet up." Baz says before I decide to jump off the highest cliff. "Give me your phone."

"What?" 

"Your phone, Snow." He says, exasperated. "Take my number, we can make plans over text."

"Oh right. Yeah. Sure." I fumble around my pockets before I pull out my phone and hand it over to him. He taps quickly on it for a few seconds before handing it back to me.

"Alright." Baz says finally and nods at me. "See you soon, Snow."

"Yeah." I hold out my hand. I see Baz hesitating momentarily before quickly shaking my hand and dropping it again.

"Good day." He says, before quickly heading out. I watch his retreating back, still trying to figure out what just happened.

_Crowley._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this chapter disappointed you then don't worry, you're not alone. im highly disappointed too. i have been out of practice for months and dealing with a lot of shit ( i mean its 2020, we all are dealing with shit), but yeah.  
> i dunno when the next update will come, but it will be in a while.  
> till then pls don't give up on this fic, because i'm definitely not giving up on it.  
> love you all :)


	3. I Don't Know What I Am Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Baz." She is completely ignoring my words, just grinning with her mouth wide open. "This is your chance. Sweep him right off his feet. Get laid. Morgana knows, you need to loosen up a little."
> 
> "Mordelia please-"  
> \----  
> Introducing Mordelia Grimm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh its an update! And it took me only two and a half months to write. That's progress yall.

**BAZ**

Mordelia Grimm is the last person I wanted to see right now.

To be very honest, I did not want to see or meet anyone right now. I just wanted to go straight to my room, lie face down on my bed and scream till eternity like some love struck eleven year old.

It's too bad that the only way to my room is through my office. It's worse that Mordelia thinks that it is her birthright to haunt it day in day out. 

“Where were you?” 

She is sitting on my chair with her legs propped up on my table and she doesn't even look up when she asks me the question and just keeps on scrolling through her damned phone.

“None of your business.” I snap at her, but to my utter horror, I sound like a petulant child. “What the hell are you doing here, anyways? And get your boots off my table, you uncultured brat.”

She does look up now and gives me a huge grin, the typical _Mordelia Grimm wants to annoy the hell out of her brother_ grin. Without another word, she removes her boots and then calmly places her socked feet back on the table.

"Now, listen here, you little shit." I growl, moving towards her and placing my hands on the table, towering over her. "Don't try that on me. You know what I meant!"

"I did." She sings, giving me an innocent smile. "I did exactly what you told me to do."

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I cannot believe we have the same blood running in our veins."

"We don't, actually. You've got rabbit blood in your body." 

If someone else had said this, I'd have hexed them instantaneously. But its Mordelia, my annoying as all fuck but still dearly loved sister who thinks my vampirism is cool and hilarious. (In a sad way, it actually kind of is) (hilarious, that is)

"Shut up." I sneer at her. "And what are you doing here anyways? It's a weekend, you've got no classes. Shouldn't you be out there making new friends or something?"

"Says the man who has only got two friends and I have like, five. So, shut up." She does get up from my chair now and stretches her limbs. "Seriously Baz, what kind of shit advice are you giving?"

"I'm a teacher, not a life coach so it doesn't matter." I lean down and toss her boots towards her. "Now leave. I just want to go to my room and relax."

"I actually needed your help with homework. That Minotaur is a nightmare."

I groan. I'm not in the mood for this. And I still need to process the fact that Simon Snow has my number, that he wants to meet me again, that he actually liked spending time with me today and that he actually shook my hand. In fact, fuck it all, I still need to process the fact that I saw Simon Snow in flesh today, with my own two eyes, wearing a black shirt and jeans and looking like an entire goddamn meal.

"Not today, Mordi. Please." I say sighing. "I'm very tired."

She narrow her eyes at me.

"Okay, what the fuck, Baz? You never ever _ever_ refuse to help me. Like, even when I disturb you in the middle of the night and when you have got that bloody cucumber mask on your face, you still help. Where were you?" She stops and then her eyes widen like she's just had an epiphany. "Oh my god, you were fucking someone!"

I choke on my spit. 

"Aleister Crowley's bloody balls, Mordelia, I was _not_ fucking anyone."

"I mean," She makes vague hand gestures, like she's trying to justify her idiotic assumption, before she crosses them, huffing. "Well, were you on date?"

"I wasn't!" I sigh then, exasperated. I think I should just tell her where I was so that she doesn't assume anything again. "I was just exploring Little Caritate and then I ran into an old acquaintance. We talked, that's all."

It's true, all of it. She doesn't need to know that I was especially searching for the old acquaintance. Or that I still am hopelessly in love with the aforementioned.

Mordelia raises an eyebrow at me.

"I don't believe you." She declares, throwing her arms up and collapsing back on my chair. 

"Oh yes, I forgot to add one thing. I was also draining annoying fifteen year olds like you dry. That's incredibly exhausting, do you know that? Though I am sure, I'd be able to manage just one more."

"Oh damn. That's got me right scared. I'm quaking with fear right now, like I'm absolutely terrified."

Her tone is so dry, so scathing, it actually makes me feel a bit embarrassed.

"Fuck off." I growl now. "Like seriously Mord-”

I'm very rudely interrupted by a banshee like scream.

“Baz!” Mordelia jumps up from my chair, shaking me by the shoulders and still shrieking. "But, Baz! _Simon fucking Snow_ lives in Little Caritate! Did you meet him?"

"I-"

"You did!" She is grinning deliriously now. Curse Mordelia and the fact that she knows me eerily well. And fuck fuck _fuck_ the fact that she knows I had a crush on Snow (I had told her in a moment of weakness) (The worst mistake of my life till date)

"How did it go? Was it good? How much did you two talk? Will you meet again? Was he-"

"None of your business." I hiss, shimmying out from her grasp. 

"Baz." She is completely ignoring my words, just grinning with her mouth wide open. "This is your chance. Sweep him right off his feet. Get laid. Morgana knows, you need to loosen up a little."

"Mordelia _please_ -"

"Do not cock it up. Like seriously, do not! He is the right man for you, I can see it with my whole being."

"You met him once. When you were, like, seven. Anyways, it was only a friendly encounter."

"That's massive progress. You guys only ever tried to kill each other here. Your rivalry is famous. There are legends about it. Imagine if you two had a baby. Crowley, everyone will go mad."

Is this walking embarrassment of a human my own sister?

"Mordelia please stop or I'm going to hex you."

"Baz-"

"No really. Shut up or I'm giving you an year long detention with the Minotaur."

"You wouldn't!"

I'm properly pleased to see her horrified expression. 

"I will." I say with sadistic delight. "Leave my office in five seconds, or its detention."

" _Baz_ -"

"Five."

"Fuck you."

"Four."

"Fine! I'm leaving!"

"Three."

"Morgana and her tits." She throws her hands up and bristles, sprinting out of the office. "I hate you, you ungrateful arse." She hollers as she slams the door shut.

I sigh, massaging my temples. 

She has a point though, I can try sweeping Snow off his feet. Maybe... get laid. (Crowley, do fifteen year olds only think about sex?) (But I had some fucked up fantasies too when I was fifteen) (All related to Snow, _of course_ )

Oh what am I even thinking? Snow is straight. Straight to the t. I don't stand a chance.

He called me fit though.

Ugh, this is ridiculous. Why am I even bothering about it? I'm over Snow, am I not? I mean, I must be. I should be. I have to be. 

I am not over him.

I hang my head in despair before I turn towards the wooden door at the far end of the room. Pushing it open, I go up a flight of stairs which leads to another door and once I'm through it, I'm in my room. My lovely room, which can't be entered by anyone but me. Thank heavens.

I go straight to my bed and lie down, staring at the ceiling. I shouldn't have gone today, I shouldn't have given in to my weaknesses. Now I have properly messed up my head and feelings and I don't know what to do, how to proceed. The best that can come out of this, this whole weird meeting with Snow, is a small tentative friendship.

He is not even queer. And considering what an absolute delight he is, why would he even be single? No one that beautiful and golden should be single, its criminal.

And even if he _is_ queer and single (I'd sooner win a lottery) why would he even be interested in me? In his former vampire roommate who was always a dick to him, who had pushed him down the fucking stairs and who had tried to feed him to a fucking chimera?

This is hopeless, what the fuck was Mordelia even thinking? We are never getting together, and definitely not having a baby. (Christ, was she _even_ thinking?)

Before I can sink deeper into this hopeless pit of brooding over Simon Snow and cursing the universe for making a mockery out of my already sorry existence, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I take it out and almost drop it when I see the texts.

 **Unknown Number [16:10]:** Hey! 😃

 **Unknown Number [16:10]:** Simon here!

I can't help the smile that forms on my face. This moron manages to sound like a bright sunflower on bloody texts. 

I'm so so fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was just channeling myself through Mordelia here lmao.


	4. Couldn't Be A Bigger Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm interrupted by a loud scream at the other end of the classroom. 
> 
> Spinning on my heel, I'm greeted with the sight of several students jumping out of their seats as Lydia screams in panic, her arms thrashing around wildly. Her bloody hair is on fucking fire.
> 
> Dear Crowley and all his dead and alive relatives.  
> \----  
> Being a teacher... is not easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> playlist for this fic:  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6QAhVOjmZrhE7gDFLBJHcE
> 
> its still a baby and more songs will keep getting added to this baby.

**BAZ**

I was not ready when Monday arrived.

I usually am. I complete checking all the homework, grading papers, making notes for my upcoming lectures and watching all those miserable Netflix shows over the weekend. 

"What happened?" Fiona had asked over the phone last night, when I was freaking out over all the pending work and feverishly making notes for today's lectures. 

"Simon bloody Snow happened." I barked back. "That idiotic mess kept on texting me and I had to text him back and I do not fucking know where all the time went and Fiona, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

"Calm down, kiddo-"

"I'm not a kid!"

"You are." She growled. "You always are. Anyways, why were you two texting each other? I thought that Mage's cretin was dead or something. Fuck it all, how did you even get his number?"

I was having a lot of regrets about telling her about Snow. I should have known she'd badger me with incessant questions instead of comforting me. Fiona is awful when it comes to consoling people. I should have just called Daphne, she'd have known what to say.

"He's alive and kicking and he lives near Watford." I said, taking a sip of my coffee and avoiding the rest of her queries.

"He is not magic anymore, boyo. That's as good as dead."

I couldn't help but wince at that.

"Now, listen up, Fiona. Just because he is not magic anymore does not fucking mean he is not a person. He is alive and happy and he gave up that magic so that we all could keep ours."

"Sorry, I didn't know he was your boyfriend." She grumbled, sounding only slightly embarrassed. "Why were you texting him, anyways?"

"He is not my boyfriend!"

"Crowley, Baz. Just fucking answer my question. Why were-"

"Okay, bye. It was nice talking to you."

"Don't you dare hang up on me!"

I hung up on her.

(She tried to call me again twice but I just ignored her calls) (She is going to be so mad at me) (I'll probably have to take her out for lunch now)

Then I stayed up the entire night, drinking cup after cup of coffee and doing as much work as I could. I need twelve more cups of coffee to stay alive today and then I am going to sleep and never waking up. It's one thing to get little sleep because of overthinking stuff, it's another to miss out on it because of work.

I'm stumbling to my office from the breakfast hall (I barely ate anything at all) (the other teachers were trying to make small talk as usual and I only wanted to drop dead) to collect my notes when I bump into Mordelia.

I have the most shitty, rotten luck in the history of mankind, vampirekind and whatever the fuck kind.

"You!" She screeches, almost as soon as I'm near her. "Baz! You did not help me with my homework."

Guilt boils in the pit of my stomach as she gives me a scowl, trying and failing to look scary. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I swear I was going to call you but then I just got-"

"Preoccupied with a certain bloke you've been fantasizing about since you could walk properly?"

I give her light whack over the head but she gives me a shit eating grin anyways. 

"I bullshitted through that thing. That bloody homework." She continues, her grin now changing into something more dangerous and feline. "I'm thinking of it as sacrifice for the greater good. If you do not end up with him, Baz, I'll actually murder you. Your body won't even be found."

"Listen here, you little shit-"

"So anyways," She says, trampling over my indignant reply like she did not just threaten to kill me and dispose of my body "I badly want to hear whatever you want to say right now. Like, I'm dying to hear your pearls of wisdom, I really am. But I have a class so I really gotta go. You have to deal with first years too, right? How about we chit chat later?"

And just like that, she pinches my cheek while I unsuccessfully try to swat her hand away, giving her a murderous look. She is not the least bit scared and giving me one last cheeky grin, she flounces away, leaving me standing like some half wit numpty. The nerve of her.

Gathering the remaining tatters of my dignity, I go inside my office and collect my notes.

I just hope today gets to be the most boring day in my life.

\---- 

"So today, we are going to learn about tracking spells."

There's a great murmur of excitement among my students as they shuffle in their seats, eager to know more.

"Of course, since you all are first years and are just beginning to use spells and magic in general, we wouldn't be learning anything too advanced. I'm not going to teach you spells that are used by the Coven to track down criminals."

The excited whispers quickly turn to groans of protests and disappointments but I just ignore them all and continue with my lecture.

"We will be learning very basic spells today. Spells that parents use to keep track of their children in crowd, or the ones that help you to find lost stuff like keys or socks."

"One such spell is **'wherever you stray, I follow'.** It's a song spell, which are generally easy to master and yet can be very powerful if need be."

"Professor Pitch!"

I look towards the young boy at the front, one hand up in the air.

"Yes, Mr. Flores?"

"I've heard somewhere, that some song spells can also stop working. Aren't they a bit unreliable in that sense?"

"Yes. I was coming to that point. I'm happy you've done some reading about thi-"

Before I can say another word, my phone buzzes on my desk. Oh, I'd forgotten to switch it off. I'll do it later.

"So, Mr. Flores,-"

My phone buzzes again. And then again. And again. And it buzzes nearly five times again before it finally stops, satisfied after completely ruining the entire atmosphere of the classroom.

I bet my entire fortune that it is Snow, he is the only one who spam texts in my contacts.

Someone snickers at the back of the class and I don't know whether I want to vaporize that kid, my phone, Snow or myself.

Or maybe I should just immolate all of us.

"Excuse me." I say, sighing deeply, before I walk back to my desk and switch off my phone. (The texts were indeed sent by Snow) (The last one just being an insolent question mark)

"So as I was saying, song spells are fickle if and only if they are not popular enough. If you try using some spell from the song Bohemian Rhapsody, say, it'll work. It depends on what kind of song you are going for. Understood, Mr. Flores?"

"Yes, sir."

"Back to tracking spells." I say, nodding at the rest of the class. "We'll cover song spells in detail after the holidays. Now please write down the following points as they are very important and I expect you to remember them. After this, we will practice casting some tracking spells. I have already hidden some stuff around the classroom and by the end of today's class, I hope all of you would be able to find the things."

There's a dull murmur and I walk back to the blackboard to start writing.

Afterwards, I walk among the rows of students, correcting the way they are pronouncing their spells. I am, of course, not telling them which spells they should use. There is a wide variety of spells, any saying or proverb or song lyric that can be used. I primarily do this so that they are able to think up spells themselves and use a range of different spells for one purpose. You never really know what you may need. 

"No, _no_ Mr. Rooks, do not let me see you poking other students with your instrument again." I say walking over to the red headed boy at the back. I'm so _not_ in the mood for this shit. "Focus on your own spell casting! Do you have the pencil I had asked you to find?"

"No, sir."

"Well-"

I'm interrupted by a loud scream at the other end of the classroom. 

Spinning on my heel, I'm greeted with the sight of several students jumping out of their seats as Lydia screams in panic, her arms thrashing around wildly. Her bloody hair is on fucking fire.

Dear Crowley and all his dead and alive relatives.

I take out my wand and run towards Lydia. _"_ **April showers!"**

She gets completely drenched but at least her hair is not on fire anymore, thank Crowley.

**"Good as new!"**

She is trembling, completely soaked, and then she is sobbing, holding the ends of her now repaired hair. (I hope her scalp didn't burn.)

"There, there, Lydia." I say gently patting her shoulder, trying my best to comfort her. "Does it hurt? How did your hair catch fire? What spell did you use?"

"It- I think I said some wrong spell, sir." She hiccups, still crying. "Something involving fire. I think I was humming some song."

"Shh. It's going to be alright. You'll be fine. Come, I'll take you to the infirmary." I help her get up and then I turn towards the rest of the class. "Class is dismissed. You all may leave."

So much for an uneventful day.

\----

Later in my office, I'm going over the texts Snow sent me.

After making sure Lydia was fine (her scalp was alright), I had to go take another class with fourth years. I'm thoroughly exhausted by now, and I hope whatever Snow has sent me is enough to revive me and get me through the rest of the day.

**Simon [09:07]: i dont think dogs are better**

**Simon [09:07]: cats are anazing**

**Simon [09:07]: *amazing**

**Simon [09:07]: this is NOT cuz have Mercury**

**Simon [09:07]: like**

**Simon [09:08]: i luv dogs too**

**Simon [09:08]: but i cant betray Mercury and say cats are any less**

**Simon [09:09]: anyways**

**Simon [09:09]: hows school**

**Simon [09:09]: ?**

Frankly speaking, it's just adorable. Snow is adorable and so is his bloody cat and I'm disgustingly in love with him.

**Baz [13:54]: Alright, Snow. Don't work yourself up. I get it. Cats and dogs are equal.**

**Baz [13:54]: And don't even start me on school.** **A student set her hair on fire today.**

**Baz [13:55]: I sincerely hope you are having a better day at your shop.**

His response is almost immediate.

**Simon [13:56]: yikes**

**Simon [13:56]: poor kid**

**Simon [13:56]: i hope she is ok**

**Simon [13:57]: nah im not at the shop today. im sick. betty's managing it on her own today**

**Baz [13:57]: Yes, that kid is fine.**

**Baz [13:57]: What happened to you?**

**Simon [13:58]: fever. cold. the usual stuff**

**Baz [13:58]: How are you feeling now?**

**Simon [13:58]: a bit shit i guess**

**Simon [13:58]: im fucking bored tho**

**Simon [13:58]: and im starving**

**Simon [13:59]: but im always starving so lmao**

I glance at the time and then at the pile of papers I still have to grade and hand back. I'm technically free for the rest of the day but I also kind of have to catch up on the work I skipped for the past two days and get some sleep. And make a test for the sixth years that I'll be conducting next week.

Snow also needs help.

I couldn't possibly be considering this...

**Baz [14:01]: I think I want to meet your cat. You're sick, the poor thing must be so lonely.**

**Simon [14:01]: baz**

**Simon [14:01]: your crazy**

**Simon [14:02]: but... mercury will luv to meet you**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man i fucking hate this chapter. its badly written and rushed and just awful. but i have a major exam this month and im freaking out over it so forgive me yall


	5. A Boy In My Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why but I think- I think I missed him. All these years, I missed him and his smell, his snide remarks, and his eerie perfectionism. Everything that's him. It's only now that I am realizing that. Over the past eight years, I always felt like something was missing, something not quite right. I just thought that it was only my magic, my magic that I had lost, that made me feel like that.  
> \----  
> Fellas is it gay to have your ex nemesis take care of you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like I don't even know the bitch writing this fic. Another update and so soon. I have literally been doing nothing except study and write this fic.  
> I have become a zombie, I think.  
> And I am sleep deprived as all fuck.

**SIMON**

I feel my pulse shooting up when the doorbell rings.

"I'm coming!" I call out, a bit hoarsely, as I stumble out of my bed. My head is spinning a little, my body feels sore and stiff and I'm feeling uncomfortably warm. I also look like shit right now, with my hair sticking out at all ends and my face ruddy and more awful than it usually is. I wonder for the umpteenth time why I thought it'd be a good idea to let Baz in my house with me looking like this and my home like it was hit by a hurricane.

Baz is looking pristine, albeit a bit tired, when I open the door. I will never understand how he manages to look like a model so effortlessly. Right from his shirt to the jeans he is wearing, he looks like a sight to behold.

I also absolutely hate his stubble. I hate how it makes him look so much more sharp and handsome. 

"Long time no see." He says with a smug smile which disappears as soon as he gives me a once over. He's got a critical look as he takes in my trackie bottoms and my t-shirt, unwashed and a bit (horrifyingly) smelly. "You really look like shit, Snow."

I feel myself heating up a little.

"Thanks. Now stop telling me obvious things and come on in."

He just rolls his eyes and follows me inside the pigsty that is my house.

"Where can I put this?" He gestures towards a backpack he is carrying.

"What's in that?" 

"Murder weapons." He deadpans.

"Hilarious." I say though I can feel a small smile tugging at my lips. "You can put that anywhere. Just put it on the sofa, I guess."

"Alright."

He puts down his backpack and now we both are at a loss for words. I mean arguing over eggs and cats and dogs over texts is easy. What do you say when you actually have to ... speak? 

"Where's Mercury?" Baz says finally, breaking through the stifling and awkward silence. "I came here only to meet him."

Oh, I can carry on from here.

"He is in my room, I hope."

"You hope? What does- Oh there he is."

I turn around to see Mercury walking up to me and eyeing Baz with great caution. Baz might know him by the photos I have sent him but Mercury still has to get familiar with him.

"Hey, little guy." Baz says, stooping down and holding out his hand. "I have heard a lot about you."

His voice is impossibly soft and soothing and he has this smile on his face which I have never seen before. Is he really Baz? Or have I let in some impostor?

Slowly, Mercury approaches him and when he is close enough, Baz gently runs his fingers over him.

"His fur is so soft." He whispers, looking at me with a wide, boyish smile on his face. It makes my heart melt. "Snow, I have to say, your cat is lovely."

And this, this whole scene of Baz falling in love with my cat as Mercury also warms up to him, has got to be the cutest and weirdest thing I have ever seen in my life.

Cute because I have never seen Baz like this, ever. He used to be such an arse at Watford, always mocking me and bickering over everything and anything under the sun but now, seeing him like this, I wonder if I even knew him back then. Because this Baz in front of me is just so... real.

And weird because, well. I mean Baz is a vampire. He drinks animal blood. So watching this new budding friendship between a vampire and his potential food is like watching a horse become friends with grass.

And then I start giggling because this is somehow the funniest thing.

Baz stops petting Mercury and gives me a confused look.

"What's so funny?"

"Baz you- you're a horse."

That's when I lose it and start laughing.

He slowly gets up and for a moment, I feel certain that he's going to hex me and leave. Instead, he just lifts his hand and then presses his long, pale fingers over my forehead.

I stop laughing almost immediately.

His fingers are cold and rough and nothing like the way I had thought they would be. His touch is brief but enough to shut me the fuck up.

"Snow, you're burning up right now." His voice is quiet, concerned. And he is right. My head is swimming and things are getting a bit woozy.

"Maybe." I say. "You're cold."

"And you're stupid. Come on, let me take your temperature." 

I half walk, half lean onto Baz as I take him (or is he taking me?) to my room, which is looking even worse than the rest of the house. Baz just ignores all of the mess before he practically pushes me down on my bed and covers me with my blanket. 

"Where's the thermometer, Snow?"

"In the bathroom. There's a closet in there. I hope it's still there."

I hear Baz sigh as he leaves my room. He comes back less than a minute later though, the thermometer in his hand. 

"You found it so soon?"

"Yes, well." He clears his throat. "Here."

That's when it clicks me. "You used magic to find it." It's not a question. I say it as a fact.

He shifts on his feet, nodding guiltily and avoiding eye contact, before handing me the thermometer.

"Baz, you don't have to be so awkward about magic around me. Penny uses her magic around me all the bloody time." I mumble as I put the blasted thing in my mouth.

He just nods before he leaves my room again and I hear him clattering around the house. Fuck knows what he is up to now.

He is in my room again a minute later and his eyes widen when he sees the reading. "Crowley's tits, Snow. How are you not cooked by now?"

"I... don't know?"

He doesn't wait for my reply before he is out of my room again. A minute later, he appears in the doorway, carrying a bowl and a cloth in his hand.

"What-"

"Quiet, now." He says while placing the things on a table near my bed. Then he clumsily dumps the pile of clothes I have on the chair and pulls it close to my bed. 

He dips the cloth in the bowl filled with water, soaking it, before wringing it a little and then pressing it on my forehead.

I can't help but shiver a little.

"It's cold." I croak. "And wet."

"That's how it should be."

He's silent for a few moments before he says, "Do you have any medicine?"

"Not really."

"I'd have been surprised if you had any."

"Hey. I don't fall sick often."

"Yet here you are, lying on your bed and burning like fire."

"You're such a prick."

"And you are eloquent as always, Snow." He says and lifts the cloth from my head before wetting it again. He replaces it on my forehead and again, I'm surprised by how gentle he is being right now.

"Baz?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you- why are you helping me? Taking care of me?"

He is quiet, his hand pressing slightly harder than a moment before, and then he says, "It's all a part of my massive plot to have you dead, of course."

I snort. "You told me about your plans, how will you succeed in killing me now?"

"I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve, Snow. You have no idea."

I snort again, feeling a bit drowsy. His hands are gentle and even though I am still quite warm, the compress feels soothing. It feels so strangely nice, lying on my bed, Baz Pitch of all the people taking care of me and smelling like the way he used to at Watford.

Cedar and Bergamot.

I don't know why but I think- I think I missed him. All these years, I missed him and his smell, his snide remarks, and his eerie perfectionism. Everything that's him. It's only now that I am realizing that. Over the past eight years, I always felt like something was missing, something not quite right. I just thought that it was only my magic, my magic that I had lost, that made me feel like that.

Baz suddenly appearing out of nowhere into my life makes me think that I wasn't entirely correct. I missed my magic, I still do, but it wasn't all. In that confusing mix of hurt and pain of losing almost everything I had held dear to me, Baz was included too.

That's why every bloke with long dark hair at uni would make my heart squeeze a little, why every pair of grey eyes would make me do a double-take, why every time a citrusy smell would transport me back to my room at Watford.

Maybe that's why, the first time I kissed a bloke, he had a slightly crooked nose and soft black hair that fell in waves over his shoulder. That was the biggest reason I had noticed him in the first place.

It's... not even a realization at this point of time. I knew it all along. I just didn't know how it all fit together.

"Baz?" 

My voice is barely a whisper and I can already feel sleep clawing over me, making it difficult to keep my eyes open.

"Yes?"

"I missed you."

The last thing I hear before I finally fall asleep is a soft, surprised laugh, and then,

"I missed you, too, Snow."

**BAZ**

I am not sure if I am breathing anymore.

It just feels like he knocked the breath out of my lungs with those three very modest words.

_I missed you._

I wonder what he meant by that or if he even meant that to start with and it was not just his fever talking. 

I know what _I_ meant when I said that I missed him. And it was not just missing seeing him over the past two days. I said those words without actively thinking about it, the same way someone says their name.

Because it is just how it is. It is a fact that I missed Simon Snow with a persistent ache in my whole being. Even when I was fooling around with other men, somehow I always found myself facing him in some way or the other. In my mind, I have always kissed him.

Over these years, I tried hard to make myself believe that I was long over Snow and that he didn't mean shit to me. That if we ever cross paths again, I'd just feel pity for my past self for ever liking him, let alone being in love with him.

I tried to forget that when death had seemed inevitable, he was the one who had kept me tethered to life. I tried to forget the heady feeling of his magic pulsing in my veins and how he could only share it with me. I tried to forget how he had helped me find my mother's killer, how he had held my hand and dragged me back to my car when I was going to do something stupid. How he had talked to me afterwards, soft and caring and understanding.

And I almost forgot too.

Until I saw him again. And the moment I did, a whole whirlpool of memories flooded my mind and made me see how fucking stupid I was being by trying to think that I didn't love him anymore.

I'll never not love him.

The past two days have been heavenly and hellish at the same time. Waking up to his texts, going to sleep while laughing over his silly jokes, and enjoying the friendship that's developing between us is already more than I could have ever asked for. 

But fuck. Fuck, it hurts because I know we are never getting any farther than this. Friends, good friends, best friends for fucking ever. That's just how it's supposed to be. 

Maybe I am being ungrateful, maybe I should be happy with what I have and dare not hope for more. There is just no point in hoping for impossible things.

I look at his sleeping form, mouth slightly open, and face flushed with fever. 

I have seen him sleep before. I have watched him at night like a creep countless time but this is different. It's just so much more intimate now. It's like I can finally show some of my love for him in a way that would never have him guess what I feel for him.

I wish I could do more, do all the things I want to do to comfort him. Like kissing his forehead and playing with his hair and telling him things I have never said to anyone before.

Brushing off a stray curl, I let my hand linger for a moment longer than necessary. I allow myself to indulge for a second and let my fingers gently caress the side of his face and then drag them over all those moles and freckles I so badly want to kiss.

And in a moment of weakness, I let myself believe for a minute that Snow loves me just as much as I love him and now he'll wake up and give me one of his beautiful smiles. Call me something ridiculously soft and cheesy and let me hold him close.

But he just mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and I can't help but smile myself. Somehow, painfully, this version is better.

**SIMON**

I don't know how long I sleep but when I wake up, Baz is not sitting next to me anymore.

"Baz?" I call out, cringing at the sound of my raspy voice. "Baz? Are you there?"

I'm greeted with a deafening silence. 

Maybe he has left already. I can hardly bear the disappointment that washes over me when I realize that he left me alone sleeping and-

"Oh, so you are up!" 

I almost jump out of my skin when he suddenly appears in the doorway, carrying a slightly mad Mercury in his arms. And then I feel like crying because he is still here, at my home, playing with my cat.

He has rolled up his shirt sleeves, and his hair which had previously been tied up in a severe bun is now held back in a loose ponytail, with several strands of it framing his face.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, setting down Mercury and walking up to me. He again presses his hand over my forehead and this time, he nods with satisfaction. "You don't have a fever now, I see."

"I'm hungry." I answer his previous question, trying not to notice the way my heart speeds up a little under his touch.

"Good." He says, drawing back his hand and smirking. "I cooked you a meal."

"You did?"

"Yes. I have never cooked a whole meal before, but I think the recipe is a success."

"And what exactly have you made?" I ask, a bit nervous. What the fuck does he mean by never cooking before? He can't be serious. I hope he is not serious.

"Sit right here, Snow. I'll bring you the most delicious thing you've ever had in your entire life."

"...Right."

He walks out, Mercury following him at his heels. 

A minute later, he appears with a tray in his hands and he sets the food down in front of me.

I don't know what the fuck he has made. It looks like soup but I am not sure if that is what it really is.

"What is this?" I ask in a small voice and Baz shrugs.

"I threw this together after watching something on YouTube. It's very healthy, though. Look at all those boiled vegetables I have put in."

I'm having serious doubts about this recipe from the looks of it but I'm also hungry and if I am going to die because of eating something poisonous, then so be it.

(Shepard would say it's the only right way for me to go: while eating)

Slowly, I take a bite (sip? what is this?) out of the semi-solid mix of vegetables, praying that I don't drop dead instantly. 

And... it's not that bad. I mean, it's definitely not the most delicious thing I have ever had in my entire life (that title is held by sour cherry scones, please and thank you) but it's perfectly edible.

"How's it?"

"It's okay." I say, shrugging, and taking another bite out of whatever the hell this is. "A bit bland, but not bad for you making something for the first time."

Baz preens and flops down on the chair he was sitting on before, watching me eat. 

"So how long was I asleep?" I ask with my mouth full and ignoring Baz's mildly disgusted reaction.

"Long enough for me to make a test for the sixth years, grade several papers, feed Mercury, and cook that thing for you."

He sounds very pleased with himself.

"So that was what you were carrying in that bag." I say. "Your teacher stuff."

"Obviously. Did you actually think it was full of weapons?"

"No. But with you, I don't really know."

I earn myself an eye roll for that.

"Aren't you hungry?" I ask, shoving another spoonful of the thing in my mouth. 

"Not really." He says, scratching his neck. "I'm full, I had some of that." He points towards the bowl I'm holding.

His cheeks are colored and I realize that he has fed too, though I don't say anything about that.

We sit in a comfortable silence as I finish eating the meal and Baz has taken out his phone, scrolling through it, and I find myself staring at him.

I kind of want to brush that lock of hair dangling in front of his eyes behind his ear, thank him for all that he has done for me today and tell him how it means the world to me that he cooked food especially for me for the first time in his life. What _he_ means to me, what having him here is doing to my heart and my mind. 

"Don't think so hard, Snow. You'll use up all of your brain cells." 

I startle out of my thoughts to see Baz smirking at me. 

“Oh, piss off, you.” I say, laughing and throwing a pillow at him which he narrowly avoids.

“I'll tell you one thing, Snow." He says, picking up the pillow and tossing it back on my bed. "Having four siblings means that you become pretty good at dodging things.”

“So like, what? Are you guys constantly trying to kill each other?”

“Pretty much. It's our love language.”

"Weird. Penny has got a very different relationship with her siblings." I say, remembering the slightly stiff and formal atmosphere of the Bunce household.

"They must be civilized people, fit to be a part of this society. My sisters and brother are just barbarians." Baz says with a wrinkled nose but he just sounds fond. "I can't tell you what having Mordelia around me every day does to me. I am not sure if it's healthy for anyone to be around her for more than ten minutes."

"C'mon, she is your sister. How bad can she be?"

"Is that a very strange compliment, Snow?" He asks, raising his brows at me. "Did you just admit that I am not evil personified?"

"I mean you helped me so much today, Baz," I say, hoping I'm not blushing too hard. "That counts for a lot. I- err- thank you, for everything you did for me today."

"Now, now. Don't be so full of yourself, Snow. I did it all for Mercury, of course. Even though I'd love to take him away with me, I can't. So you'll have to take care of him. And for that, you need to be healthy."

I roll my eyes at him. 

"You are just fucking crazy." I say as I get up from my bed and stretch my arms. "Anyways, I'm going to take a shower because I think I really need one."

"No shit, Sherlock." Baz says, getting up as well. "Just don't take too long because I don't want you back on your bed talking gibberish."

"Hey! I wasn't talking gibberish!"

"Snow, you called me a _horse_."

"That was just one time."

"That was just- Oh goodness. Come to think of it, you are still talking nonsense. Maybe-"

"Yeah, no." I say, quickly dodging past him and scooping out some clean clothes from my closet. "I'm taking a shower because I am _not_ talking nonsense."

"Alright." He checks the time on his watch. "It's late, Snow. Maybe I should get going."

I stop in my tracks, feeling my stomach drop.

"You are leaving?" I ask, trying to swallow the disappointment. I mean I know he wasn't going to stay here forever but that does not mean I want him to leave so soon. I hardly got to spend any time with him.

"Yes. I don't think there is anything else left for me to do."

"I- err." I say, scratching my neck and thinking hard of some way to make him stay for just a little longer. "Uh um Baz, you can't leave now. Like, not so soon! Not yet, I mean."

"And why can I not?"

"Umm- because well, err- You haven't had the special tea I make! Like, I run a coffee shop, I am good at tea and coffee stuff. At least have some before you go. It'll help you feel better and relax you."

Tea. I could have said anything in this whole world and I went for fucking _tea._

The corners of Baz's mouth twitch as he tries to suppress a smile. "Fine, Snow. I'll have this special tea of yours. Now go, shower."

**BAZ**

The amount of willpower it took me to not knock Snow over and snog him senseless was phenomenal. 

How is this man even legal? How is anyone allowed to look so ridiculously adorable while they are crusty eyed from sleep and smelling a little? How does Simon Snow manage to wreck me so effortlessly?

I'm sitting on his sofa, waiting for him to finish his shower and make me the tea he promised and wondering how in the name of fuck am I ever getting over him.

Mercury sidles up to me, curling up near my lap.

"Is he always this cute?" I ask Mercury, stroking his black fur and feeling a bit stupid about talking to an animal.

"Uh yeah, he is." 

I jump at the sudden appearance of Simon, bathed and smelling of something sweet. 

Fuck, he heard me. And now he knows, he knows that I think he is cute and that I love him and he probably hates me and-

"But you should see him when he is pissed." Snow continues, walking up to me and sitting down beside Mercury. "He is a holy terror. Still, he is my little baby."

Oh.

_Oh._

He thought I was talking about his cat. Thank Crowley.

"He was such a delight today." I say, almost giddy with relief. "I loved spending time with him."

"Aw, look at you falling in love with him."

There goes my reputation of being a heartless monster.

"Anyways," Snow says as he gets up again. "I'll be back in a few minutes with the tea."

I stare after him as he goes inside his kitchen, wondering if I should go after him. But I am feeling lazy and Snow has a really nice sofa and it'd be a shame to leave Mercury here alone.

Also, I'm tired. I haven't slept in a while now.

So I just sit and stare around, properly taking in the living room. Underneath all the mess, I have to say it's very cosy and lovely. I'm not sure if Snow picked out the furniture himself, though. It's too nice for his taste. Maybe his family helped him.

On the walls, several framed photos hang. There is Simon and Bunce, back from their days at Watford, smiling lazily at the camera. A more recent photo shows them at a beach and they are accompanied by another man with glasses and who is laughing unabashedly. I recognize him as Bunce's boyfriend, Shepard. There is a photo of Agatha and Simon too and they look much more happy in a friendly relationship than the one they had earlier. In another photograph, he is with his grandmother.

But one particular photograph catches my eye and I get up to take a closer look.

The woman in the frame is pretty and broad shouldered, her long curly hair appearing to be made of bronze as she smiles at the camera. Her freckles and moles look like a thousand stars on her pale skin and her eyes are the same shade of boring blue I've seen countless times and memorized. 

"That's my mum."

I turn around to see Snow approaching me with two cups one of which he hands to me. I take it silently, as Snow stares at his mother. The physical resemblance between them is unsettling.

"She is pretty, isn't she?" He asks, smiling a little. "Agatha says she looks like Baby Spice."

"You resemble her a lot." I say, not sure myself if his mother does look like Baby Spice.

"That's what everyone says. I wish I had the chance to meet and know her and see in what other ways we were alike." He pauses before he gives a little laugh. "Ed, my uncle, says I inherited my stubbornness from her. And that she had a wicked sense of humor. When they were little, they would play all sorts of games together and sometimes..."

He trails off, staring intently at her again. 

"Sometimes?"

"Sometimes I wonder if she would've played those games with me too if I had got the chance to grow up under her care."

I watch Snow silently, not wanting to interrupt him.

"I don't know if I miss her." He says quietly. "It almost feels wrong to miss her because I didn't even know her. But she was my mother, you know?"

And I understand him, I completely understand him. I was five when I lost my mother and you don't have very vivid memories of anything when you are five. I remember my own mother in bits and snatches, little flashes of smiles and caresses. But it does not mean that I don't miss her. 

Snow and I walk back to the sofa in silence, sitting down comfortably at either side of Mercury.

"So what got you into tea making business?" I ask after a stretch of silence, taking a sip of my tea which tastes amazing. Snow wasn't playing around when he said that he is good at it.

"My Gran," He says, shrugging and smiling. "She got me into a lot of things when I mostly felt that I was a part of nothing."

"You love her a lot, don't you?" I ask softly.

"Yeah. In a lot of ways, she is the reason I am here and not rotting away in a hole and drunk off my ass."

He remains quiet for a few moments, lost in his memories. But when he starts speaking again, it's like he is in a trance. His eyes are glassy and far away, and his voice is low, almost a whisper. I'm suddenly aware of the fact that Snow is not talking to me anymore. He is talking to himself.

"I was in Uni, so as to say. Because I had stopped attending lectures and I'd just watch TV and drink cider the whole day and I was just- just so bad then. Penny was not at home that day, she was in America to visit Micah and she had wanted to take me with her but I didn't go. And Gran came to my flat, surprise visit, you know? And she just saw how I'd become. Like, I'm sure she knew before hand that I was doing fucking terrible."

He exhales shakily, taking a sip of his tea. 

I feel like an intruder right now. I'm not sure if I'm even supposed to hear this. This just feels so private, something that he probably does not tell anyone. I don't know if I'm worthy of his trust.

But my heart bleeds to think that Snow had once been reduced to a shell of his former self, that I wasn't around to help him. I don't know what I could've done but maybe if I had just been there. Anything. If could have taken away some of his hurt and trauma. Anything at all.

"She took me with her, to her home. And I don't know, it wasn't like I was in a popping good mood from the next day. I was mad at her for treating me like a baby. For thinking that I couldn't look after myself. It took me a while to accept that she just loved me and wanted me to be okay. I stayed with her and my uncle for a long while."

I'm now not just seeing Simon Snow, the man I've been in love with since forever. I'm also seeing Simon Snow, a fighter who went through a colossal amount of shit to be here on this sofa and tell me this story. His story, his reality.

"She got me into therapy again and sometimes, she'd bake me cakes and hug me and you know, I'd never been loved like that. Ever. I had always been the Chosen One or something for the Mage but I was just a long lost grandchild for my gran and she just loved me no matter who I was."

Not for the first time, I feel unparalleled rage at the Mage, that fucking asshole. Simon was never even loved by him. Sometimes, I just want to go and find his unmarked grave to just piss on it. I hope he is rotting in hell.

"It was easy to be loved by my Gran, " Simon continues, oblivious to my anger, "because she had no set idea about what I was supposed to be. Like when she had met me for the first time, I didn't have magic and had fucking wings and tail. And she'd still hugged me and said that she was so happy to meet me."

He turns his gaze to me, like he's just realizing I'm here.

"Oh God, Baz. Fuck, I'm just- fuck I'm so sorry. I talk too much." He gives an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry-"

"Simon, no." I say, quickly cutting through his stuttering. "No, please don't apologize for telling me that. I- thank you, for sharing that with me. I'm glad you told me something about yourself."

"Yeah." He says, still pink in the face. "Yeah."

"So what happened to your wings?" I ask, changing the topic because he is clearly feeling awkward.

"My wings?"

"Yes, you used to have wings and a tail, right? When did you get rid of them?"

"As a matter of fact, I still very much have them." He says, and he is grinning now. "Baz, I'll show you the coolest thing."

He gets up from the sofa, standing in front of me like some performing artist and I'm feeling so confused. 

He puts his hand inside his t-shirt and brings out a necklace with a dragon hanging at the end. 

"See this?" He asks, still grinning.

"I have perfectly functioning eyes, Snow." I say dryly. "Of course I can see it."

He makes a face before he shakes his head and smiles again, like some happy dog. I try not to melt.

"Right, so. Watch this."

He takes off his necklace.

For a moment, nothing happens and I'm about to snap at him when I hear a ripping sound.

My voice dies in my throat as I watch his wings practically grow out of his fucking shoulder blades. It's like watching a plant grow but at five times the actual speed. His wings are red, leathery, jagged at the edges and huge and are practically all over the place.

They are magnificent.

And... his t-shirt is now torn.

I don't know if I am staring at his bare chest or his wings. Both, probably.

"Isn't this insane?" He asks, laughing with delight and not taking any notice of his torn shirt. (Or my gay panic) "Isn't this the craziest fucking thing you've ever seen?"

And now I'm laughing too, because his happiness is infectious. 

"It is!" I say, moving around him to get a better view. "Snow, your necklace is wonderful. It's been so long since I have seen such an amazing show of magic."

"It's all Penny's doing." He says with pride. "She is a genius. Gran gave this necklace to me as a birthday gift. Penny tinkered around with it for months and made it the way it is. I'd hate it whenever Penny would have to use her magic on me but I didn't want to lose my wings either. She said she got the idea from some movie."

Penelope Bunce is an exceptional mage, I have always said that. But this? I truly can't believe her talent and her skills. When I meet her again, I'm going to ask her about this necklace and the spells she used. 

"This is brilliant, Snow. Bunce is brilliant."

"She is, isn't she?" He says with fondness evident in his voice. "This necklace is the reason how I'm a part of both the worlds. It's wonderful."

I rub my finger over one of his wings and Snow shivers. 

"Don't!" He says, getting a little out of the way. "It tickles."

"Does it?" I ask, wriggling my fingers a little. 

"Baz, no!" He laughs as he draws away from me. "Don't you dare!"

"But what am I doing?" I ask, poking his wings again and watching Snow react in a comical manner, laughing and stumbling away. 

"Baz, please. Have some mercy on a sick man." 

"Alright, alright." I say, falling back on the sofa. "Now go and wear a shirt, Snow."

He looks down at his naked torso and blushes right to the roots of his scalp. "Oh fuck. I didn't even notice. Sorry, I'll just-" He stops speaking and quickly hurries inside. 

As far as I am concerned, Snow had no reason to say sorry. I... rather enjoyed the view.

**SIMON**

By the time I come out wearing a new t-shirt, Baz has nodded off on the sofa. He must have been exhausted, to fall asleep so quickly and just like that. I can't let him go back to Watford now, not when he's so tired.

"Baz?" I say, my voice hushed.

He jerks awake, blinking, his eyes bleary and sleepy. 

"Sorry." He mutters, slowly getting up and scratching his head. "I think I need to go now."

"No, Baz. You are so tired and sleepy. I have a spare room, Penny uses it often. You can sleep there, it's the least I can do for you."

"Oh. Oh no, I don't want to trouble you." He says, shaking his head. "I'll just go."

"Come on, Baz. It's late, just spend the night here. You can leave early tomorrow. And it's so dark, what if you get run over by some car or shit?"

Baz stares at me. 

"I assure you, Snow, no car will run over me." He is smiling. "But umm okay. Thank you."

"So you'll stay?" 

"Yes, if you insist." He looks a bit hesitant. "Thank you."

"Good good." I say and then usher him towards the room which basically belongs to Penny. "You can sleep here. I'll bring you some comfortable clothes. Your jeans are nice but I don't think you should sleep in them."

"Simon, it's okay. I-"

"Oh, shut up, you." I say, going to my room to bring him spare clothes. "We are friends now, so let me take care of you and stop being so awkward about spending the night here."

That does shut him up.

I rummage through my closet and after some search, I find an old t-shirt and trackies that will hopefully fit him.

"Here." I say, handing him my clothes. "You can wear them."

Baz takes a look at the t-shirt and shakes his head, smiling. "Snow, you are obsessed with Queen."

"I mean, there is reason Mercury is named so." I say, shrugging. "I wanted to name him Freddie earlier but the local pub owner is also named Freddie and he is a nice bloke but I wouldn't name my cat after him."

Baz laughs.

"You are a piece of art, Snow." He says, turning away from me, his open hair now covering half of his face. "Good night, Simon."

I look at him, soft and open and beautiful.

"Good night, Baz."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was... long  
> i just couldn't control myself lmao  
> come say hi to me @makedonsgriva on tumblr!


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